


Not the Sixth Year I Expected..

by Rizaru



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good, Let's say it is.., M/M, Sectumsempra Gone Wrong, Time Travel, if that's even possible, irregular updates, oh dear I've no idea what I'm about to write..
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizaru/pseuds/Rizaru
Summary: Some shit goes siriously wrong and Harry along with his merry bleeding-to-death tag-along Malfoy arrive in the year 1943 screaming and hating each other - as well as almost all those around them complicating the mess they're in. One of those is the man ready to murder Harry and his famiy in the future: Tom Riddle. Still innocent (as much as he ever was) and readily on his way to darkness.So simply:Shit happens and things go terribly wrong.Figures when you're Harry Potter..





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thought Contagion - Muse
> 
> Something that seemed good to write.. nothing more I _can_ say, really. There is just something about both Harry  & Draco going to Riddle, lol.
> 
> All yours,  
> Riza xx

 

It started as all things start (at least those that are bound to go horribly wrong) from a moment in time where you stood still, mind racing and the seconds slowing by as if ridiculing you as one significant thought sunk into your sorry-excuse-of-a-brain: oh shit.

For Harry, and no doubt for Draco or Malfoy as he'd called the git earlier, it was one such moment that ripped their lives apart once and for all.

For starters it was such a hassle of things gone wrong one more couldn't possibly hurt any more, right? Or that's what Harry thought when he stumbled upon the must-be-death-eater in the boy's bathroom only to find him there _crying_.

The Draco Malfoy Harry knew would _never_ cry.

But this one very clearly was doing just that. And then the pale-blonde went and noticed it wasn't done without company.

Well sure, Harry would have perhaps gone bonkers, too (the summer of fifth, _hum hum)_  had someone caught him in one of his bad moments. Probably more so if that someone was Malfoy, sure. But still he found it hard to justify said encounter if he greeted said Malfoy with hexes and jinxes that quickly turned to _unforgivables_.

Because that's what it had been. That red light starting to form on the tip of Malfoy's wand, aimed at Harry. So of course he had panicked. And went and used the one curse he knew not did what. And _of course_ it was one that would slash the opposing person's chest open so they would bleed to death.

Because why the hell not?

This was _the_ Chosen One, the venerable _Harry Potter_!!

Let's go and give him some more trouble, the boy sure needs it!

Why not make him a killer, too, as it somehow just so fits there to add to his ever growing guilt..

But in this mess, this horrible, bloody mess, there was one factor no one had thought possible. It was something that made the final call for  _Time_  itself to add to it all.

An innocent Time Turner hanging by the neck of Draco Malfoy, unseen before but visible now among the red cuts all over his pale skin. A feast before Harry's horrified eyes, cut open by his own curse and -  _spinning_ madly. Gold freckles caught in the red blood and grains of sand littering the floor but still it spun joyfully, extending a blinding glow to Harry who had somehow gone to crouch by the side of his laying nemesis.

Because why the hell not?

Let's whisk them away for good Time thought.

It's not like there ain't any trouble left there.

No-ohohohouu

And then it laughed a good belly laughter that rang in the air (along with Moaning Myrtle's horrified scrieks) as the Time turned around the two messed up boys, whisking them away to somewhere far away while so close at the same time.

To another Hogwarts they went, one running in the momentous year of 1943.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harry fell down to the ground with a crash and a shout, his book bag dropping as he stumbled once the spinning abruptly ended.

His head was still spinning madly, though.

It wasn't such a bad thing to be honest, as it now gave orders that were needed in the situation more than the things running through his heart. Things like guilt and horror and stillness. Those would have been the ones to end one Draco Malfoy's life. But since he wasn't thinking clearly, his instincts took over and Harry bellowed with full lung capacity: "Help! Someone help!" Before crouching down and trying to stop the blood flowing and - the thing he thanked his coddled mind for later on - vanished the remains of the Time Turner. Admittedly that was because they were  _on_ the wounds and no doubt hurting Malfoy.

Hurrying footsteps preceded the arrival of someone to the exactly same bathroom before the spinning and the lights. Truth be told, in this moment, Harry still believed he was in the same time as they'd left behind. However, that was not the case as he noticed the moment a tall, dark haired boy opened the door with a frown marring his face and a wand held in his hand and his features slowly registered in his mind.

"Help! Please help! I don't know any counters to this curse.." Harry pleaded for help, hands covered in Malfoy's blood only to stop short when he saw exactly _who_ it was that hurried into the room without giving anymore thought to Harry and instead focusing on the bleeding boy and running his wand over the wounds, sealing them after a short interval of deciding the best course of action.

But Harry couldn't be happy about that as all he saw were dark curls hanging over handsome features he knewfrom _memories_ , not actual meetings. It was Tom Riddle. The same as in the pensieve, the same as in the diary. The same one trying to kill him with the basilisk whose bite-marks he still bore on his arm. How could that be? Maybe it was someone other? It had to be so, Harry swore to himself, because there was no longer Tom Riddle, only Voldemort. The young boy had been dead long ago, replaced by an insane sociopath.

"Tom! Where'd you- -Oh!"

Another voice sounded by the door and Harry's head turned to look at the new arrival. Impeccably groomed pale-blonde hair and clear light blue eyes made his stomach turn in discomfort. The man looked like Draco far too much to be an accident. It had to be a Malfoy.. one who wore Hogwarts'school robes. A sick feeling settled itself in Harry's belly, twisting and turning as his mind came to a conclusion he didn't like one bit.

There was only one use for Time Turners after all..

So, somehow, his curse had taken them to the past, to a time when...  _Tom_ was still a student. A manipulating, powerful student. One who was saving Malfoy's life right about now. Harry didn't know should he feel thankful or angry. So he went with worried and stood up, looking at Draco's disheveled body that wasn't thankfully bleeding anymore and said: "We gotta take him to the hospital wing."

His words gained the attention of dark brown eyes that lifted to meet his.

"Yes, we should", Riddle said slowly, now looking Harry up and down with eyes that Harry didn't like. They were distrustful and wary. "Who are you, though? I've never seen either of you."

Harry swallowed and answered with a haphazard: "You can't know everyone, I'm sure.." And went to lift Draco's body up with a spell Hermione had taught him not long ago. God bless small mercies..

Riddle would have no doubt said something had the other blonde not exclaimed in shock when he stepped further into the bathroom. Harry turned to him to find the young man's eyes on Draco's face rather than his body as Harry had first thought would be the case.  _Oh damn.. This was going better by the minute.._

 _"_ How- Whoa! What happened here?" the Draco lookalike asked, finally taking in the state the other boy was in.

"An accident-I really gotta run to the hospital wing now", Harry said and prepared to run from the scene when he turned to look the young Dark Lord in the eye and smiled as brightly as one could when escorting an unconscious.. not-friend.. to be treated, "Thank you, Tom? Wasn’t it? I owe you one!"

The words took a lot from Harry but were something he had to say. Because he was grateful. Without Tom here today, Harry would have become a killer. The mere thought sent a nasty feeling down his body and he shivered while running the familiar corrridors with Draco Malfoy of all people with him. Together the two of them had travelled back in time and - according to Harry's knowledge of those dangerous little things - one was needed to go back, too.

 

Pity theirs was first smashed to bits and later vanished...

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a sudden desire to add something... more to this little fic of mine. At first I was sure it was just going to be another 'normal' time travel thingy but then... dear Harry just might've cursed a little bit more with his sectumsembra. It sure goes along with his.. good good luck...
> 
> *Evil laughter*
> 
> I'll tag when the time comes~
> 
> Riza xx

 

It wasn't the gentle sunlight streaming in from the big windows of the hospital wing that woke Harry up - no - it was the soft whimper coming from Malfoy, stirring up on his bed, the one next to Harry's.

Tired green eyes zeroed in on the blonde, happy he was alive and well... ..as well as one can be, given everything...

Yesterday had been _hectic._  Firstly, Harry hardly remembered anything from the hurried trip to the current Matron of Hogwarts hospital wing. She was a gray haired older woman still full of energy and vigor, taking it to be her mission to heal and parch them up (Harry was in _shock_ , apparently. Not that _he_ noticed, but the matron was sure of her diagnosis.. So a round of potions it was, from Calming Draught to Sleepless Dream.)

Secondly, there had been a plethora of questions, which made it a good thing Malfoy was still inebriated and unable to start yelling at Harry when all of their past was up and hearing what was to be in half a century. And it sure wasn't his area of expertise, Harry knew, but the frantic rules Hermione had trilled into his head about time travel ( _never let anyone know anything_ or something along those lines..) in third year were enough to make him stop telling everyone just how they'd appeared out of thin air into the school warded so tight not even Voldemort was capable of easily waltzing in. (In _their_ time, of course. Now he was quite cozy peering down at Harry and Draco.)

The Matron came in handy then, when there was a ginger haired and bearded man with half-moon glasses staring with light blue eyes at Harry and resembling a certain headmaster  _a bit too much_ to be an accident - not to mention the blossoming Dark Lord edged at the peperiphery of the commotion downing hungrily every word they got out of Harry. (Not much, thank Merlin..) She, the raging angel she was, took it as her mission to threaten every bit of personnel and student  _OUT!! Out you meddling idiots! Don't you see the boys are in need of rest and healing!_ Which gave Harry the precious time to figure out he had to speak with Malfoy  _asap_ before anyone else got to them and noticed how the blonde thought it was still 1997.

Harry really wanted to cry.

Exactly how was he supposed to survive this? With Draco fucking Malfoy with him?

And the peachiest part?

When they had ran along the corridors last evening, Harry had seen-

"Potter? What happened?" A groggy, disoriented voice asked with a sad attempt of a drawl.

Harry swallowed heavily and turned to see Malfoy trying to sit up on his bed, hair up with sleep and more.. relaxed, real, than Harry had ever seen him. That was until the blonde brought a poised hand to his bandaged chest and clarity at the damned situation started to reveal itself to him slowly. Malfoy sat still, hand clutching at the bandages, face blank but Harry could see the fumes of rage start behind the stormy gray eyes. He had to be fast before the Matron saw them awake and ruined everything.

Thank Merlin for Hermione Granger, Harry sighed when he spelled notice-me-not's and the likes around them before sparing a cursory glance at the spell decined to inform the Matron of awake patients, which was beautifully distracted by him. Again. Thank Merlin for Hermione Granger.

"I'm sorry", Harry said when Malfoy turned his thunderous eyes to glare at him.

"Well, you better be-" Malfoy started vehemently, but couldn't get another word out, only opening and closing his mouth like a fish before realization struck and his hands searched for his wand frantically, only coming up empty. Harry twirled it in his hands, showing the tool for them to make it into round two of 'who gets to kill the other'.

"I meant _that_ , too, obviously. It wasn't my intention to kill you, despite everything between us", Harry said with an embarrassed and guilty flush and a hand rubbing at the back of his neck absently. Then he grimaced, which caught Malfoy's attention and a wary glint appeared in his eyes that bordered on silver once the Sun caught them just so.

"Although..." Harry said, gritting the apprehensive words out as he knew he had to, "I couldn't have possibly known you had a fucking Time Turner around your neck. Why in the seventh hell did you have a Time Turner around your neck!?"

The yelling part of his explanation wasn't the most desired thing to happen, but hey, he was still in _shock_ and panicky, too, no doubt there. The situation was stressing the hell out of him and who knew he could imitate Walburga Black so artfully without intention? The summer listening to her screeching paid of, apparently. But that wasn't the important part here - the abrupt paling of Malfoy was. He looked positively sick and ready to keel over any minute.

Harry canceled the silencing charm and saw Malfoy take a deep breath while they stared at each other in stunned silence of dread and fear of if Harry was right in his outrageous presupposition.

"You..." Malfoy started, but stopped and resorted to staring blankly out of the window showing a hint of early morning air. He resembled a statue that refused to speak or acknowledge the outside world.

"-got us thrown off into the past with  _your "_, the emphasis was demurely tactical; it sure as hell wasn't _Harry's_ fault they were in the fucking past, "Time Turner that  _broke_ and is of no use to us anymore", Harry offered once it became apparent Malfoy had no intention of taking part in the gloomy conversation.

The blonde sucked in a shaky breath and the staring continued uninterrupted.

"How far back?" A surprisingly calm voice inquired.

"Don't know yet, if I'm honest. It was a bit of a blur but I managed to keep the questions to a minimum before you woke up, which was fast, thinking how you bled so freaking much I-- oh, sorry, didn't mean to.. Err.. anyway.. we were lucky that someone", at this part Harry finally began to struggle how to find the appropriate words to say 'the Dark Lord saved your life', but came up empty so here goes nothing,

"handy"

_how fucking lame a word **was** that!?_

"was there to patch you up. Because I had no idea what that spell", at the furious glare directed his way, Harry lamented to change his impeccable wording,

" _curse_ all right, did. So yeah.. we were lucky. Hey - you any idea who 'Tom Riddle' is?"

The last bit was just to get them started on the real problem child here, which for once wasn't Harry. Hurray..!

To be honest, he was baffled the brat had been as quiet as he had 'till then. Harry himself would have flipped by now and started screeching about the unfarity of it all and had a nervous breakdown - oh, wait -  _He was having that._ Only the potions were still up'an running so he was good. (For now) So it was an unsatisfactory observation that Malfoy gave him the blank eye.

"No.. Is he someone important to our... plight?" Malfoy only asked, finally looking Harry in the eye, resigned to their fate for now. Maybe he, too, was hanging by the potions. Very likely given he'd been the one near death and not Harry. One more reason to thank the Matron for taking such sweet care of them. Keeping them sane was a wondrous feat in their unfortunate situation after all.

"Yeah, kinda", Harry said, honestly flabbergasted Malfoy didn't know the name of his Lord. But, thinking more clearly, maybe it wasn't such a silly notion that the man wasn't keen on sharing to pureblood supremacists how he was a half-blood. That would have surely ended up peachy.

"We-ll? Care to share, Potter?" And the Malfoy drawl was back in place. It almost made Harry feel marginally better about this farce. At least he could trust that some things stayed the same no matter what changed.

"It's kinda bad", he grimaced again, "you see, Dumbledore's been giving me these lessons this year.. I'm getting to it - don't glare at me! - And well.. they've been about a certain Tom Riddle", he kept an illegally long pause, during which Malfoy was giving him the dead eye, "also known as.. Voldemort."

Harry hadn't thought it possible Malfoy could grow even paler, but there it was. Now his skin resembled drenched paper. The man sure had made his name a blasphemy.

"Aah", Harry heard him shudder bitterly, "of course  _he_ would be here, too.. there goes that hope.."

Harry didn't mind him, but droned on with a sense of irrational giddiness: "Guess who saved you last night?"

Malfoy's eyes snapped up so fast it would have been ridiculous, really, if Harry hadn't been so incredulous about it himself. Realisation was evident in his expression as he stared at Harry, disbelief strong in the air.

"Fifty points to Slytherin! Tom Riddle, fifth year student at Hogwarts if my eyes served me right, the future Dark Lord, saved your arse yesterday", Harry hollered. Which made the use of concealment spells around them useful, because else he would have been diagnosed mental. Even now, Malfoy seemed to believe so, which was very affrontin to Harry as they should have been equally knackered about it all - which they weren't. Malfoy played the 'cool, poster boy' type and was dispassionate and distant, even the earlier rage at being almost killed having vanished. (For the moment)

Really now, Harry wondered, there should have been a reaction to his shocking revelation. Something stupid and crazy and something to take the edge away. But there was no-

A loud laughter rang in the air suddenly, waking up Harry's ears and brain.

Malfoy sat on the bed, head thrown back and laughed with amusement that wasn't exactly there. It was mesmerizing in a way, actually seeing a reaction, something human and a bit crazy. It made Harry's breaths come easier, calming his heavy-beating hearth to a dull  _thump thump_ , instead of  _du-tu-tumph du thump thump thump._ Much nicer to breathe, if he had to say so.

"You have to be kidding me", Malfoy said, tangling the sheets unconsciously in his grip, "You-Know-Who saved my life? The one always threatening to end me, suddenly went and saved me? Please."

"Seriously, Malfoy, yes. Voldemort is here and saved you. And I doubt we have much before he himself comes to check on the two lads suddenly infiltrating their school. So we better have a foolproof backstory soon", the laughter brought Harry back to earth and he remembered how they were running out if time as it was.

The mood turned grim in a matter of seconds.

Malfoy stilled and the only movement was the slight shivering of his body, which he obviously tried to conceal from Harry. The whole burden of their time jump was gradually seeping on their shoulders and Harry thanked all that was good and holy that Malfoy wasn't taking the 'let's blame Harry for everything and flunk it all up' route and instead hadn't even tried to curse him since he found out they weren't in 1997 anymore. Maybe he even had the same comforting feeling as Harry had when he saw Harry sitting there with him, like a proof they weren't in this alone. For all his annoyance over it being Malfoy there, it was still loads better than being alone.

"What year is it? I take it since you didn't babble yesterday, you realise were can't babble,  _at all_. Which means we have to change our last names, if not everything.. why are you looking like that?" Malfoy asked, gray eyes drilling into Harry's accusingly.

He could admit he looked guilty (again) and maybe a bit uncomfortable, if the fidgeting was anything to go by. So it wasn't such a stretch Malfoy noticed. He saw many things, really, about Harry. Well, had. Had seen. This year it had turned around with Harry running after Malfoy instead of Malfoy living to make Harry's life miserable. Although he was still doing that just fine, now without doing it to rouse Harry up..

"There was this.. boy.. with Riddle. He was quite shocked seeing you, as was I, seeing him.. there's no denying you're not related, I'm afraid", Harry said in a mumble, watching from over the rim of his glasses as Malfoy ground a hand over his face and slumped back against the pillows.

"Was there now?" He questioned mockingly, "please tell me all the people we should be wary about first before letting me think it's okay to adjust even just a little."

"Dumbledore was there", Harry started and Malfoy looked like he was suddenly suffering a lot, "I've no idea if any of my ancestors are here. But there was one more I know that we know that I saw..."

He waited until Malfoy looked at him, waiting for the reveal. He tried smirking, he really did, but it came out as a grimace, nonetheless, as the familiar screeching sounded somewhere far in his ears again.

"I saw Myrtle", Harry announced without preamble, "all flesh and bone, giving us the starry eye, which I think is kinda strange, given you were bloody and I was hysteric, but who am I to blame people?"

At first Harry was sure Malfoy hadn't listened to him at all, because there was only the blankness of before and no emotion. He was starting to think it was a pureblood thing to hide everything if it became too much. But then he spoke, and Harry cursed the ghost despite it being their (Malfoy's) fault overall.

"You don't think that's why we're here, in this time? Because Myrtle was there with us,  _a ghost_ , and now we're here, when she's still alive?"

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

"I'll be alright! How many times do I have to-"

"You're bound to ruin _something_! You're Potter!"

"Oh!! Thanks for the trust Malfoy - not like _you_ ever fail at anything. How many times have you lost to me 'till now..?"

"This isn't about  _Quidditch!!_ It's about whether or not you can keep up with the damn story!"

"I'll do it better than _you_ for sure!"

"Well then do it and don't argue with me!"

"The same to you. Git.."

"What was it - - wait, never mind - I don't care. It's going to go okay. It's early January here if that calendar is to be trusted, in 1943. Nothing to worry about. We'll fool everyone and regroup in the Room of Requirement as soon as we can. The Matron, whatever her name is, is liable to interrupt us soon", Malfoy said and glanced worriedly between Harry and the door at the back of the big room.

"Yeah, she is. Such a worrywart - it's sweet, really", Harry said with hardly concealed irritation and gratitude for the woman having taken them in so easily. He just couldn't stop the annoyance over being stranded in a hospital wing - again..

Malfoy only glared at him and took a deep breath.

"And your name is-?"

"Harry, short of- oh shit! Down!" he hiss yelled and duck, stealthily cancelling the wards around them into non-being.

The door creaked open and they 'stirred' awake at the sounds, sleepily looking around as the Matron took notice of the alarm going off in her wards.

"Oh, boys! You are both awake - good, good. Let's check you up now, then. Quite an evening you had, can't say anything else, certainly not.. And at times like these.. Well. I'm glad you seem to be faring better, Mr..?" her incessant chatter was directed at them both, but the last question was for Draco, who sat up, wincing only a little and straightening himself into a proper stature like the poncy pureblood he was.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy - or that's if the main branch will have me.. but that is another conversation altogether. Thank you for taking care of us.." Malfoy said, impeccable mannerism taking place immediately upon awakening and even Harry was taken aback by it - he had never actually considered the possibility _Malfoy_ could be _nice_. It was such a silly notion, after all. Outlandish, really.

The Matron was as shocked as Harry, but for different reasons. Her eyes roamed over Malfoy's features, taking in the light blonde hair that ruined the use of any other name for him - not that Malfoy would have ever disgraced himself as playing as anything less than a pureblood.

"A Malfoy? Not that I didn't suspect.. I am Christina Bellamy, the Matron of Hogwarts hospital wing. I believe after feeding you boys something tasty I'll call Albus back - oh, but should I inform Mr Malfoy, too? Abraxas, I mean. He should know you, perhaps..?"

Ah. And there it came. So he _was_ Abraxas Malfoy, the boy from yesterday, Harry thought. Malfoy had been almost certain it was him, his grandfather. Another outlandish notion to add to the ever growing list. Meeting one's grandparents fifty years too early, going to school with them. Crazy. Absolutely. And definitely possible, as they came to realize.

"Yes, if you would be so kind", Malfoy said with a slight smile, "Our arrival  _has_ indeed to do with the Malfoys."

And only then did the Matron turn to Harry, having almost forgotten him completely. A strange occurrence as ordinarily he could only pray to have a moment of his own. He rather liked it despite the oddness.

"How rude of me - who might you be? Not another Malfoy, I take it? Wrong hair - not that I mean anything bad by it", Matron Bellamy asked with a mischievous smile, driving a dagger at Harry's heart. His hair. _Always_ his hair. The only thing other than his famous scar people seemed to see when looking at him, aside from his eyes, of course. The hair, eyes and scar that people knew as Harry Potter. He was stunned cold.

_Oh, the sadness of his life._

Malfoy snickered behind the woman, looking at Harry with glee; Harry wouldn't give him the satisfaction of looking petulant and instead he smiled sunnily, ready to be  _just Harry_ for once.

"Harry. Or Harrison's the full name. Harrison Granger. And no. I'm not a Malfoy. I'm an orphan", so yes, maybe his words came out harsher than intended. But he couldn't really help it. The story was so ridiculous, really. But they thought it best he not be 'Harry Potter' as that name would rock the world a bit too much in the future - if they didn't muck it up first, of course. Knowing him that was a possibility. But he did have quite a good luck sometimes, too, now that he thought about it. Who else defied death almost every year of their life quite like him?

"Nice to meet you Mr Granger. Just rest while I fetch the others so we shall hear the circumstances of your unnatural arrival", the Matron said with a kind and efficient smile before sending off the messages along with a house elf and then starting to properly fuss over them, but mostly over Malfoy, telling them how well the injuries had healed, leaving only small silvery scars until perhaps those, too, would fade in time. She did also wave her wand at Harry and appeared to still, but that wasn't something Harry himself really saw, as his focus was on other things. Such as sitting still and sharing a few nervous glances with Malfoy, who seemed content to glare at him like Snape on his best days.

_Ah, the reassurance.._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Potter - no,  _Granger_ \- was clearly not 'all there'. 

_Ugh, it was such an ardous task to try and think off Potter as Granger.._

The truth in the statement needn't any other proof then simply regarding the lost expression the Chosen One had on his spectacled face. Draco curled his lips in distaste. Trust it to be Potter who wheedled him near death to the past.

At first Draco had wanted to believe Pott-Granger was having him on, but knew not to make a scene over it. Despite all belief, he had grown over summer. Out of fear, more than maturity, but grown nonetheless. One was forced to do so or perish when the Dark Lord moved in with them, or so he was led to believe by the unnaturally tasteless number of purebloods in their Lord's lines and more so by his family that had dwindled to two if one didn't count a crazy aunt and her gloomy sidekicks.

But that belief had soon vanished along with the taste of death that he'd had the honour of tasting when it occurred to him what it meant. To be in the past.

Honestly, Draco felt _happy_ over it. Happy and guilty because he was joyed over the fact he was  _out_ , safe in a way he hadn't been since the day he was marked and made to bare a burden too big for him. He hadn't wanted to acknowledge the fact -  _couldn't_ have acknowledged the fact. If even he, himself, didn't believe he could actually kill Albus Dumbledore then who would? Who would come and save him from the man who held everything under his bare feet and lived from the despair of others?

No one.

And succeeding was his only choice to keep up even the tiniest illusion over the Malfoys' safety.

But now that was no more.

Now he was free.

So the guilt was strong when he glimpsed at.. Granger (he had to stay on thinking of the brat as that now, fast before they ruined it all by calling each other with the wrong names. In that sense, it was a blessing in disguise he could go as a Malfoy. Potter would have blurted out his name with indignation sooner rather than later, otherwise) who sat there worrying his lip and looking at the door in a helpless fashion one rarely associated with Harry Potter.

Even the horrid news that the young Dark Lord was to be a student among them didn't deter Draco from his calm. It was simply too good to breathe again. Because even though it was jarring to think he was now going to school with _Voldemort,_ the man  - no,  _the boy -_  didn't even know him! Sure he might've saved him from a situation that shouldn't have been possible in the first place, but Draco was intelligent enough to make up a sufficient cover up story so they could hopefully fly under his radar until they figured out what to do.

Bloody hell, he was older than this Tom Riddle if what Harry said was to be believed!

It would be easy and they could think of this as a vacation of sorts... One Draco didn't want to exactly end... One that was with Potter of all people.. well.. It would have been more horrible. Truth be told Draco missed the days he could just argue with the brat with no worries over being alive the next day. Although he supposed the  _Savior_ was the one to almost kill him not a day before...

The door to the hospital wing opened and Draco turned to see a young man his age if not a bit older walk in with a controlled mask over his familiar pointed features. Pale-blonde hair was the dead giveaway over them really being related. It was his grandfather to be, Abraxas Malfoy, shadowed by a dark haired younger boy he swore must've been the most handsome man he'd ever seen - and apparently the version of his Lord that was not insane and a deathly snake-man with blood-red eyes.

Like this, he could easily forget he was looking at a dangerous madman he had once upon a time thought to be an almost god.

Still did, in a way.

Nowadays it was purely in fear, though, and accompanied by a desire to escape the being.

After the boys two elder men stepped in, the other wearing a garish orange robe that reminded Draco of puke (and had no one said how tasteless the thing was!??) That was undoubtedly a much younger Dumbledore, with the same odd sense of clothing as always. Behind him came a grayish man dressed in dark robes that didn't try to blind his eyes or stain his pure mind (thank Merlin), who was most likely headmaster Dippet, as Granger (finally right at the first try..) had supplied him with the information. (Nuts, wasn't it? Potter knowing something.. Shite! Again!)

"Ah! There you are", the Matron piped up as she jerked awake from her thoughts, "I was just about finishing up with the boys here."

"Thank you, Christina. Spotless job as always, should I say", Headmaster Dippet said with a kind twinkle in his eyes as he chuckled at his own silly little joke. Draco didn't laugh.

"Thank you, Armando", Madam Bellamy said with a shadow of a blush coloring her cheeks. Draco didn't want to find out what those two got up to behind closed doors..

Dumbledore's eyes were heavily on them, blue eyes more grave than Draco had ever really seen them, which honestly wasn’t such a surprise. It wasn't every day two foreign boys crashed into a heavily warded school and bled to a random lavatory floor.

"I think I'm speaking for us all when I inquire exactly how you two appeared into the castle in such a surprising manner last evening", Dumbledore asked and silence followed.

No indication was made for anyone to leave, which Draco found disconcerting. Tom Riddle wasn't necessary to hear it all, but still he stood there, politely quiet and assessing the situation. Maybe it was because he was the one to save them (him) that led to the privilege.

"It is quite a complicated tale, I'm afraid", Draco said with a slightly apologetic smile. He saw Abraxas' eyes glint in appreciation at the mask he had on. Somehow that made Draco a bit proud inside.

"I'm not sure if it is appropriate for anyone else than those directly involved to hear.." and now he added a bit of uncertainty and reluctance into the mix, with a sudden flicker of eye contact to Riddle, "As you said, sir, it is indeed a rather surprising thing to break through the wards here."

The older men exchanged glances, with Dumbledore clearly indicating Riddle should go, while Dippet was smiling merrily.

"The boy did save them, Albus. I say we let him hear. It's not like it's a matter of life and death!" Dippet said with a short laugh.

Draco and Harry's faces fell and so did the mood all around them.

"Sorry sir.. but I'm afraid it slightly is", Harry said, training the attention to him for the first time. He was playing his part adecuately, for now. Though Draco wouldn't say that to the prat.

"Oh.. well" Dippet said and the joy bled from him rapidly before the man puffed himself up properly again, waiting for an explanation. No indication was given for Riddle to vanish away. With no intention on fighting the matter, Draco took the lead again.

"We.. well the reason for us being here is that our family was being hunted and my parents chose to send us away as a final resort", Draco started and adapted a mask through which he let show some of his real emotions regarding his parents, but was otherwise emotionless.

"I understand how abnormal this must sound, so I'll go back further in time for you to understand our situation. Harry here came to live with my family a few years back. Before that he stayed with his no-madg relatives, who.. weren't the best kind."

"My parents died when I was just a baby and I went to live with my mom's sister, who wouldn't tell me about them. They hated my magic and it only got worse over time. Draco's parents knew mine and found out about me through coincidence. They took me in and we went to school together until Christmas holidays.." Harry supplied and avoided looking at anyone, opting to stare a hole in the ground.

Adapting a grim look, Draco continued: "My parents.. we had the misfortune of catching the eye of some Grindewald fanatics still inhabiting the American soil. They forced us to run as the holidays started. It.. We were in a safe house when they caught us. My parents fought them off, but there were too many.. They forced us to go to the ritual room to get to safety. There were anti-apparition wards over the house.. We had acquired an ancient blood ritual that was not used, legally anyways. It was to send us to my nearest blood relative. It was all going well until one of the attackers' forced his way into the room. I was in the middle of the ritual and Harry tried to fight him off, but he hit me by accident and.. I have no clear recollection after that but my additional blood must have quickened the ritual and it sent us away at the last second."

He swallowed heavily and shuddered without even needing to act. It was still vividly clear in his mind as his skin tore open in agony and his blood flowed heavily onto the floor as a nauseating spinning started.

"We knew some of our relatives lived here", Draco continued once taking a look at the grim faces around them, "My ancestor traveled to America years and years ago. He was a Malfoy and the name has followed my line ever since. Our uncanny resemblance is a proof of some kind, but the ritual wouldn't have brought us here had some of the Malfoy blood not been here."

Draco stared straight into his grandfather's eyes and saw mixing emotions flicker past rapidly. They were like twins at some points, but there was some Black resemblance in Draco that was not yet there in Abraxas. It would be hard for the young man to doubt him. If the main line would take a penniless relative in, that was.

"As it is..my parents.. I'm afraid they are gone now. With nowhere else to go I ask for the main line to take us in. Although Harry is not a Malfoy, he is a friend of our family back in the states", Draco asked, showing humility and uncertainty, but also hopefulness. But his carefully crafted mask cracked and his lip trembled when the horrendous truth clarified itself in his mind. The one thing that nullified the hope and joy of getting away from the Dark Lord: he was alone. His parents were still  _there_. They truly were  _gone_ from him.

A hush sounded and he saw worry climb on the faces around, buying his act which was nowhere near an act anymore. Even Potter twitched, like he was about to reach for Draco but restrained himself. It was a good thing, Draco thought. Who knew what he would have done if the boy had tried to comfort him. Slap him, most likely.

That thought, as unconventional as it was, helped him reconstruct the mask again and force the looming tears and fears away. There was a time for everything and Malfoy's kept control of themselves, always.

Now more than ever, he would honor the teachings of his kin.

He had even spelled them American accents to make the story more believable. A usesable spell to learn, although at the time it had been for a dare by Blaise, but none of that now. There was a row of adults with somber faces rounding them - and a teen with a thoughtful expression boring holes into their skulls.

It was the time for the final verdict.

"Not to sound petty", Abraxas started, looking straight at Draco with a mask firmly in place, "But I need you to do a blood test. Not that we wouldn't go as a pair of twins, but we cannot take those without proof into our family."

Draco would have sworn he heard a whispered  _father would go crazy_ but thought none of it. The requirement was only fair. He would have asked the same thing if the tables were reversed.

But.. what would the test show as his birthday?

His parents?

..Grandparents?

Draco dreaded to know, but as it was, he had to go along with it. Things would only get more complicated if he were to say 'no' after claiming to have come in with the help of a shady blood ritual.

"Alright", he said, sounding more confident than he felt.

Abraxas smiled.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

"Which one would you like, Mr Malfoy?" Matron Bellamy took charge straight after Draco had given his consent over the blood test, asking Abraxas the question Draco wanted to answer, so he simply did anyway, not minding being perhaps considered impolite. It was his life on the line, thank you very much.

"The simplest one? Which shows my name and blood purity?" he said and smiled a bit, tilting his head just so giving off an impression of trying to be funny, "Unless you want to bleed me dry again, of course."

The joke was a thought-out reply, one said to drive away any unnecessary tests and hopefully keeping their time-travel identities a secret. True to his expectations, the Matron's face grimmed a notch and she waved her wand and a patch of parchment flew over to her.

"That would be best, yes", she said, giving a grim look to every member in the room, discouraging them to even try and say something to persuade her otherwise, "Merlin knows you are only talking with the power of blood replenishers.."

She sighed and all the men in the room had similar looks of hidden amusement and wryness written over their features, Granger included.

"I'm sure that will do just fine", Abraxas said with a gentle air, "Even that is enough to prove if he's a Malfoy or not. Perhaps we could add a bit of my blood too, to see how closely related we are?"

Draco's mask was in the predicament of falling apart when those words were released to their ears, but he held it barely, as the Matron had already grasped a hand of his and produced a thin needle to pinch a drop of blood from his finger to drop to the waiting parchment, which it did, just as Abraxas finished his sentence.

"Oh, dear boy, I'm afraid I did the first one already - my hands sometimes know what to do before my mind supplies them", Matron Bellamy said with a short laugh and glanced over at the parchment, which had started to fill in with red lines written in the middle of it, right where the drop of blood had fallen.

_Draco Lucius Malfoy - Blood Purity 93%_

Draco sighed silently in his mind - all was well: no jeopardizing names appeared and he was proven of his name. The Matron peered over his hand at the parchment and released a noncommittal hum of agreement.

"Boy speaks the truth - he's a Malfoy and a very pure one, too. I know you have married some not-so-ancient lines into the Malfoys too, so no surprise it's not 100%. I doubt no other than the Blacks or the likes are", she said and looked over at the wizards who were trying to look cool and collected and not leaning over and trying to see the results for themselves. In their interest in the Matron's words and Draco's relief, only one pair of eyes was glued to the finger still hanging over the parchment, another drop of red blood collecting into the point, filling up to fall over, slowly, steadily, until it finally did, covering the already existing text and vanishing within it. New names appeared as it happened, names directly under the first one.

" _Lucius Malfoy.._ _Narcissa Malfoy née Black_.. So you are a Black, too. Fascinating", a voice stated and all previously raised eyes descended on the youngest boy in the room. Riddle paid them no mind, brown eyes on the parchment, before he met the Matron's gaze calmly, "He is still bleeding over the parchment, Madam."

Riddle smiled and the Matron jolted, giving a horrified and embarrassed look at Draco's finger, while everyone turned to see the new lines. Thus nobody saw how Draco had paled and stared at the parchment frigidly, not believing he had bled over it too much, thus making his parents' names appear, too. Thankfully it still didn't show years, only names and even at those only the first names of his parents'. He wouldn't have liked to explain why his father was named  _Lucius Abraxas Malfoy.._ Sometimes the Malfoys truly seemed to want to make his life extremely hard, Draco concluded, drawing a calming breath. Luckily it required more than three drops of blood for the parchment to fill up that much information.

A short tingle of magic later his finger was patched up and his identity was confirmed. Some peace returned to his body and he relaxed, taking more time to study those around them once the pressure was taken off him.

"If I can take that with me to show to my father so we can hasten things up?" Abraxas asked Matron Bellamy while the Headmaster and Dumbledore were whispering something stealthily and Riddle was looking at them with curious eyes and staying silent. His eyes travelled from Draco to Harry and back, as if thinking something or perhaps  _waiting for something_. Whatever it was, Draco had no idea.

"Harry, was it?" Dippet's upbeat voice sounded and Draco turned his gaze over with Riddle doing the same, "I don't think we heard your full name yet."

"Oh, I'm sorry sir. I'm afraid the shock is taking its toll on my manners.. I'm Harrison Granger, but Harry's the name I prefer", Granger said with an embarrassed air and ruffled his already unruly hair to stand up even more. Draco dreaded the day he would have to drag the prat to Malfoy Manor.. It would never be the same since that unfortunate meeting..

"No worries, dear boy. I believe we haven't introduced ourselves either. I am Headmaster Armando Dippet and this is our vice-Headmaster and Transfiguration Professor Albus Dumbledore. And if you did not know it already, this castle is called Hogwarts' school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We were th-"

Dippet was interrupted in his benevolent speech when the Matron suddenly turned back to Harry with a stern look on her face and started fussing about speaking nonstop: "How could it have slipped my mind? I cannot believe it did - such important things to fix! Dear boy, how could you not have this fixed already I have no idea!"

Granger looked as baffled as they all felt and looked. Draco furrowed his brow, thinking hard and long what could have alarmed the Matron so, when he heard something he should have perhaps figured out a long time ago.

"You are severely malnourished and I found some old broken bones that have ossified wrong over time! I need to fix this immediately but I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for another day at least", Matron Bellamy said and all the people in the room became grave again, even Draco paled and looked at the suddenly blushing boy shocked out of his mask.

"What?" he asked with no pretense, but also because he knew it was expected of him, "How could I have not known this?"

Harry looked like he wold rather be anywhere but there with them, but explained nonetheless: "As Draco said, my.. no-maj relatives weren't the best kind. And as for how you never knew.." here he looked at Draco with some surprise hidden in the depths of green "I never thought it imperative to tell. I was just content to eat more when I could."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harry was rather baffled by what the Matron was so shocked over.

Of course people had always seen how skinny he was every time school started (they weren't blind after all) and even tried to feed him all they could, like Mrs Weasley did with the motherly affection that he always drank up greedily. But never had anyone at Hogwarts taken any action against it. Madam Pomfrey had always batched him up efficiently, but never had she said anything about his visible ribs or things along those lines. So now when the new Matron was so clearly concerned for him, he was truly unable to know what to do about it.

"When you say you ate when you could, how much did you eat while with those.. no-maj's?" her eyes very pure steel as they drilled into Harry as she questioned him sternly.

"Erm.. Seldom? I mean, I ate when I could.. Usually their leftovers if there was any. Other times.. not so much", Harry said quite truthfully. He wasn't that keen on recounting how the Dursley's had treated him before such an audience.

If it had been possible dark stormy clouds would have risen above the Matron's head, thunder crashing down on any who displeased her.

"Those no-maj's.. What are them?" she asked with barely contained anger.

"I believe they mean muggles, Christina", Dumbledore injected with a suave air about him, "Am I right boys?"

"Yes, sir, they are", Harry said with a nod, finding it funny how even these old and knowledgeable people didn't know what 'no-maj' meant. There you go Malfoy! How dare you sneer at my ignorance when even the sweet Matron doesn't know! He sent a victorious gleam at the blonde, which was caught by Abraxas and Harry coughed, trying to cover up his unseemly behavior.

"Muggles really are barbaric!" the Matron declared and puffed up in justified anger.

"Erm.. they are just different and thus ignorant of us and naturally a bit afraid because we are more powerful than them.. And no-maj's shouldn't have exactly come into any contact with our wold in the first place in America.. My situation was a bit.. illegal, truth be said. But other no-maj's I know are quite nice, really", Harry tried to alleviate the situation. He knew not every muggle was as horrible as his relatives were and so it was unfair if he let the kind Matron think so. There were so many muggleborns in Hogwarts so it was natural she would come into contact with their parents, too. He didn't want to be the reason for her possible frosty behavior towards them.

Matron Bellamy's expression softened and she came and ruffled his hair, which made Harry gape and blush furiously.

"A sweet boy, you are Harrison. I'll be sure to make you healthier than you've ever been!" she boasted and went to leave the room in search of some potions for him, leaving the previously interrupted Headmaster and the entourage back in charge. Dippet looked after her retreating back with a fond expression and continued like no interruption was made at all.

"We have wonderful staff here at Hogwarts", he said and turned to look at both boys, "We would gladly accept you here to study. If my old ears heard correctly, you were schooled in America?"

"Yes, at Ilvermorny", Draco acquainted with a proud nod, reminiscent of a dignified member of the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, "We were in the middle of our sixth year this Yule before.." his expression darkened and he closed off briefly before continuing, "Well, before everything."

"Ah, yes Ilvermorny. A very fine school indeed", Headmaster Dippet said amicably before a more serious expression took over his wrinkled face, "I believe you eould do well continuing on your sixth year here, but what I'm concerned about are you O.W.L. scores - or perhaps it's more accurate to say - the lack of them. It wouldn't be wise to contact your school if you were being hunted there. What say you if you finish now as fifth years and do your O.W.L.'s as second time? That way we wouldn't have to contact anyone in America and instead stealthily welcome you here as.. hmm.. homeschooled children. What do you think?"

Harry wanted to groan in despair and it showed on his face if the hidden amusement in the eyes of those around them was any indication. Once he thought he didn't need to think about O.W.L.'s anymore he had to now take them again. Great. Fantastic. Fabulous.

"Or we could take the tests but continue as sixth year students here", Malfoy suggested an even more horrible possibility.

"You mean", Harry started, terrified, "that we should study twice as much this year and take the O.W.L.'s  _and_ the exams at the end of sixth year?"

 _Are you crazy!!?_ was left unsaid but it echoed around in the room silently, making Malfoy's lips twitch almost imperceptibly.

"I'm sorry -- I found it plausible but forgot our academic differences. Never mind then, Headmaster Dippet. We will take the fifth year again", Malfoy said and Harry would have had to be blind and deaf if he hadn't noticed the usual sneer hidden behind the fine words.

'Academic differences' his ass.

More like another way saying Harry was stupid and Malfoy the luminous prodigy.

Gritting his teeth, Harry sat up a little straighter and thought  _Go for it. See if I fall or if it's you.._

Out loud he said with a sunny smile: "Oh, it's not that I mind doing both. It would be boring to go over the fifth year material again, after all. I was just worrying for you, Draco."

It was the first time Harry ever called him by name and what a magnificent sight it was. Malfoy's brow twitched at his words and Harry could easily see through his mask, see the flinch when he rolled the blonde's first name over his lips like a purr. It was too bad he couldn't continue taking elation from the scene or start dreading what he had promised for himself, because the Matron suddenly re-appeared by his bedside and forced a foul tasting liquid down his throat, muttering something to herself all the while, making Harry almost choke.

"Drink this for the coming month at least twice a day.. And this one thrice a week.. Also--"

Her instructions were numerous and the potions were of course adapted to that number. If they all tasted as bad as the first one, Harry really wanted to cry.

Even more so when he caught sight of Malfoy, previously ready to turn green or red from indignation, now chuckling to himself at his misfortune.

 _Thanks a lot, god or whatever,_ Harry grumbled and somewhere in the recesses of being,  _Time_ laughed to herself and watched the situation she had worked to create with a fond air about her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, it's been a.. while (Irregular updates _humhum_ ) It's partly because I had little planned for this if I'm honest and I was a bit shocked how liked this was so the pressure just grew and grew. I so feel those authors who start writing sthing completely random only to realise it's pretty damn liked.  
> Uni's a tough nut,  
> Riza

It was safe to say Harry's pleasant impression of Matron Bellamy ended rather abruptly the instance the crew of Headmasters, to-be-headmasters, too-curios-for-their-own-good relatives and not-yet-maniacs left them alone in the Hospital Wing.

That is to say, it faced a bitter death at the cruel, cruel words:

"I'm afraid I have to break all ( _all!!_ ) your previously broken bones again to set them right this time."

Needless to say, Harry was absolutely appalled.

It showed on his face as a paleness so white he rivalled Malfoy on his bad day. (Who was trying to decide between relucantly symphatetic and positively gleeful over Harry's plight. On his end, Harry felt deep resentment.)

"That so.." Harry half whispered, half gasped out, "You don't think- Ou!"

But the Matron had already pointed her wand at Harry's foot and said out an incantation or other, personally Harry would have pegged it to be another unforgivable - because apparently he was a magnet for them; Voldemort, Bellatrix, Malfoy...

"Oh, my - - were you saying something? As I said, my hands have a mind of their own sometimes when curing patients", Matron Bellamy said kindly, but all Harry saw was a kind of reckless glee to heal people as fast as possible and not think of the concequensess through the sheen of tears in his eyes.

"Oh, no, nothing- Ou!" he started again, only to fall short instantly.

After that, he just grit his theet and fucking  _endured_.

Better than ever, Merlin's bollocks! Worse than ever would have been a more accurate expression...

And that is how it continued for all twelve previously broken bones, which were then set right and healed. Not to mention the glass of something or the other that seemed like a sister-product of Skele-Gro - at least it tasted as bad and had Harry's bones snapping together like magnets with way too much velocity. All the while Harry endured and blinked back the tears in his eyes. He was not going to cry while in the presence of his school-yard nemesis! There was also a curious question running in a loop around his mind: was there really no numbing spell or potion in the wizarding world? And if no, why the hell not!!? If he didn't know better, the magical folk were really a punch of masochistic and sadistic idiots. The latter for denying anesthetics from others' and the previous for settling for the lack of them themselves. Fools, Harry thought, bloody fools with magic the logic-breaker.

Afterwards Harry felt like he had no power left in his body and even Malfoy seemed slightly ruffled at the display he had to witness. An endless amount of  _cracks_ and  _clangs_ with the clear visuals of limbs going in unnatural angles must have amounted to something after all.

There was ringing in Harry's ears, he absently noted, while laying on his back and wishing he would not have to move for the next twelve hours: an hour for every broken bone, thank you very much. Malfoy was pleasantly quiet, too, not requiring Harry fo anything- oh, please, just as he got the thought-

"Gra- Harry", the posh brat intoned with a cool voice only slightly distorted when his name slipped through thin lips. He should perhaps feel proud if not for-

"Shut up, please. Just- shut up", Harry moaned, not caring about his Chosen One image (when  _did_ he ever care about that?) or anything else. What did it matter now, anyway?

He heard Malfoy move on the bed, the linens softly brushing together and apart, but thankfully the blonde stayed _silent_. Harry sighed with contentment and felt the sleep whisk him away like a stealthy thief.

Somewhere he thought he heard a slight muffled chuckle.

 

* * *

 

 

Abraxas Malfoy was a proud pureblood of fine birth - and everyone knew it.

Priviledged, envied, gifted in talent and gold as well as the fact his family knew how to educate the younger generation so they  _managed_.

Managed everything, shortly expressed.

So, when a boy roughly his age just crashed into Hogwarts of all places, bloody and nearly dying, while looking like Abraxas' copy with a tinge of  _Black blood,_ it was something that needed to be managed immediately and impeccably. He knew there were things the boy, Draco, had left knowingly unsaid, but that just further proved his heritage - not that Abraxas actually doubted it for even a single moment. A Malfoy knew another, simple as that.

Regardless, if someone were to ask him (and if he was bening enough to answer) he'd say the boy's luck was better than an average Malfoy's. What were the odds that the only person in an entire castle full of witches and wizards able to save the boy was just a couple steps away when he was needed immediately? That didn't just happen, not in a community like theirs, no. Magic was all, prevailed everything, yes, but at the cost of something brilliant, there was a price to pay, and for them it was that accidents happened and killed more than died of old age. Accidents of all kinds: purposeful, meaningful, odd, nonsensical, name it, it existed. And an accident as huge as a supposed blood ritual with mortal wounds and moving oceans away but remaining alive was definitely unheard of. For this reason only, the lucky individuals taking part in the endeavor were something  _else_. What this else was, was a mystery. Perhaps gifted by Fate, favored by Time or saved by Death. In every case, they were special.

Malfoy's knew how to manage their allies, too. Aquire, hold, banish, they  _managed_.

 

The dungeons were chilly this time of the year, almost frosty if one were to look at the rocks from the right angle. They were almost always empty, too, only seldom were there students rushing down the dark passageways. Abraxas too hurried his steps to arrive in front of the correct wall to allow him into the warm comfort of their common room.

"Alihotsy", Abraxas stated to the wall and slipped in as the door materialized at his command.

He had the parchment with _Draco Lucius Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy_ and  _Narcissa Malfoy Née Black_ written on it in his grasp. It was important evidence that was to be delivered promptly to his parents. But Abraxas wondered if he should find- ah the devil comes as he's called.

"Orion", he called out and the younger boy stopped short on his way through the peaceful common room with his year mates.

"Abraxas", Orion greeted and waved his friends to go on, as he was won't to do.

"I require your expertice on some personal matters, walk with me", Abraxas said, curt and proper with no needless niceties. He was older and roughly at the same standing after all as a heir to one of Most Ancient and Sacred Families.

Orion hid his surprise well, but it was visible in the miniscule crinkling of his eyes. Abraxas said nothing more and continued on his way to their dorms. Many thought Slytherins had rooms all to themselves but in reality they had to share, only with one another, though, which was a blessing in and of itself. His was empty at the moment as Greengrass was away, probably on his way to early lunch. Once the door shut behind them, Abraxas went straight to business; it was simply not in his temper to prolong an issue by useless chatter.

"It is nothing serious I mean to ask, simply if you are aware of a Black going to America some years prior? One Narcissa Black to be exact", Abraxas asked pleasantly, not bothering to explain more as he didn't have every needed detail in his possession yet.

"A Black? Going to America? Are you sure?" Orion asked with a hint of incredulity.

_Ah,_ Abraxas thought,  _as I imagined it to be._

"Yes. A pure one, too", he nodded and added.

"We have a family tapestry I'm sure you remember. I don't recall anyone on it ever leaving Britain. We are not fond of migrating out of our soil", Orion said with a wrinkle in his brow.

Abraxas only nodded in thought and dismissed the boy with almost nonchalance:

"Thank you, Orion. That was all I needed."

The young Heir Black seemed to understand well and left with a slight curl of his lips at Abraxas. The door clicked behind him and Abraxas lowered himself to the edge of his bed with the parchment in hand.

"Not an ordinary wizard, no", he murmured, gazing at the high blood purity, "I wonder who you really are, Draco.."

With a decisive set on his jaw, Abraxas reached out to fine parchment and a quill before settling down to write a long letter to his parents.

 

* * *

 

 

Tom Riddle was an unfortunate but brilliant student if one were to ask anyone in the ancient school.

Tom himself didn't quite enjoy the characterization, but it suited his intentions well enough, so he let it be and fed the gossip mill when necessary. He was so much more than unfortunate or brilliant - he was  _special_. By his birthright and might, by his fast wit and stratetic skill. There was only one true Heir of Slytherin after all - - and he was the only one to find the Chamber of Secrets in many years.

Finding the Chamber had been a test of sorts to him, something to prove his worth, if only to himself. But actually finding it, finally encountering the basilisk inside, that was something he had not dared to dream about. It was hungry, so ravenous after decades of only eating small rodents and the likes that found their unfortunate way to the sewers of Hogwarts. So hungry it eagerly hissed the meaning behind its existence.  _Hunting down the bad blood_.

Tom wasn't at first exactly sure if it was a good idea at all, for one,  _he_ was a half-blood. He had brilliant, powerful magic. He knew of muggleborns who were better than their pureblood counterparts. They were still _magical_. Still worth something. So unlike the people of the orphanage or the chuch who knew  _nothing_ but condemned  _everything_. They were unworthy of this world, of Hogwarts and its wonders. Albus Dumbledore was unworthy too. And he was a powerful wizard, if only short-sighted and prejudiced against Tom!

So, in Tom's opinion, blood didn't matter that much, only if the person was malleable enough or not to suit his tastes.

He had said no to the basilisk. No to eating the mudbloods, no to compromising his last years at Hogwarts due to someone finding out about him having a basilisk at his peck and command.

It was a good thing, too, because as it was, Abraxas Malfoy almost found out about his secret. Merely by coincidence, too. Then Tom realised how on the edge he walked. And then,  _then_ , two wizards appeared from thin air in Hogwarts. Tom didn't believe in coincidences like that. He doubted Abraxas wondered the same paths as him by coincidence, either. There was something more at play. Something special, purely magical. And damn it all if Tom wasn't going to find out what.

The two boys were unknown variables in the web he'd started to weave from the moment he understood he was nothing in the magical world by being a mudblood. He needed more, so much more of  _everything_. Abraxas had it all by being born in the right family, but Tom had to build it up brick by brick until he had his own place and a semblance of control he'd longed for his entire life. Dear Merlin, he actually envied the pale-blonde boy. Tom was the Heir of Slytherin while he was only the Heir to the Malfoy line. Tom was so much more - - but it also meant so much less when his ancestors had let the line sink to rock bottom of the magical world. There was no gold to their name, no house, no sane members. There was only Tom with his muggle name and talent to speak to snakes.

_There is only me_ , Tom thought to himself as he traversed the steps winding down to her, his basilisk,  _she'll know if they taste strange on her tongue. She'll know if there's some strange residue left of whatever brought them here._

 


End file.
